backlit dream
Soothing music was flowing in and out of the heads of THE TWO. They were driving in the woods, during a storm. Rain was falling down, and sticking to the windshield, where it spread into little streams. Particles shook their heads in terror, seconds before not-really-dying. THE TWO have just finished fighting, and there was electricity and sweat in the air. One of THE TWO changed gear. The other one looked out the window. Their gray skin was almost glowing - reflected in the windows. Whatever happened to quick and painless resolutions? Agreements come with a high price to pay, and a bad taste in their mouths. Hurting as a way of showing affection was long forgotten as a subject, even by the desperate poets. Every raindrop dying on the glass was shrieking about the end of the world. They knew it was all pointless. It came suddenly. The lights flickered, accelerator kissed the floor. Breaks squeaked. And then time stopped. A pack of cigarrettes was hanging mid-air inside their car. Water drops were frozen seconds before splattering on the windshield. A girl in a red dress was frozen kneeling in front of the bumper. Hey sugar-pie, nothing lasts forever. They didn't hear a scream, and yet they were sure that THE THIRD was dead. The realization of the whatever-country-dream was now shattered. It would have been to easy if THE THIRD had any id on her. They stopped, killed the engine and rolled out. Still shaking and still terrified. One of THE TWO walked slowly to the corpse. He found nothing but a red dress lying on the road. It was torn and old. Almost like it had been laying there for years. And maybe it did - he thought backing away. Thank God it was just that.